Paint the Town Dead Page 13

  “I’ve heard that name,” Liz said. “He’s a private investigator. One of my clients hired him. Nasty divorce.”

  “Somehow I’m not surprised he digs into people’s private lives for a living.” Maybelline returned her attention to her hand. “This is shaping up very nicely.”

  As the tattoo artist made each stroke, Rory wondered why the hotel manager had been talking to a private investigator, and if it had something to do with Jasmine’s death.

  Rory and Liz watched until the last flower was painted, then waved goodbye to Maybelline and took a tour of the floor, occasionally pausing when something caught their attention.

  “How much do you know about this Oscar Carlton?” Rory asked Liz as they rummaged through boxes of discounted pattern books.

  “Not much. I’ve never met or even seen him. Just had that one client who hired him.”

  “We should see if we can find out more about him. You ask your client, and I’ll ask around. Maybe my dad knows something. He might have run across him in his legal work,” Rory said.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter 19

  Rory left Liz on the trade show floor, found a quiet spot outside and called her father at his law office to see what he could tell her about the private investigator Ian had been talking to. He told her Oscar didn’t have the best reputation and related a few stories he’d heard about the man’s questionable practices, then ended the call by warning her to stay away from the man.

  After promising her father she’d be careful, Rory went back inside the Akaw. As soon as she entered the lobby, she spotted Nell at the concierge’s desk.

  Remembering how she’d thought the hotel employee was keeping something back, Rory walked up to the desk and said, “I wanted to ask you about the man on the video again. I got the feeling when we spoke before there was something you wanted to say.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Rory settled her face into an earnest expression and lowered her voice. “I won’t tell anyone you talked to me, but it’s important. It might help me find out who killed my friend.”

  Nell studied Rory’s face for a moment, then looked around and said in a whisper, “Not here. Meet me outside in five minutes.” The hotel employee smiled at Rory and said in a normal tone of voice, “The hotel restaurant has a number of gluten-free options. I’m sure you’ll find something that will please you.”

  Keeping up the pretense, Rory thanked the woman for the information and studied the menu posted next to a statue of a surfer by the entrance to the restaurant. After she felt she’d spent enough time reading the menu, she exited the hotel and settled down on a wrought iron bench in the courtyard in front of the Akaw and waited for the woman to arrive. The only people in the area were a couple sitting on the other side of the courtyard, too absorbed in each other to care about anything anyone else was doing. Right on time, Nell sat down on the bench beside her.

  Rory peered around the courtyard, but didn’t see anything resembling a security camera. Unless one was hidden in a planter, the area appeared to be free of surveillance. “No cameras here, right?”

  Nell nodded. “That’s why I chose it.” She looked straight ahead as she talked. “You asked about the man in the video. If I was holding something back.” She cleared her throat. “I saw Mr. Blalock, the hotel manager, talking to him the day after it was taken,” she said in a whisper.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t the same day?” Rory asked.

  “Positive. It was Wednesday, after the fire alarm sounded. On my breaks I sit on one of the benches near the ocean, watching the waves and the families on the beach. I find it very calming after dealing with people all day. Mr. Blalock and this man were standing on the path below me. My boss handed him a long, white envelope filled with something. I think it was cash.”

  “Do you know why Ian gave him the money?”

  “No. There was something odd about it, though. Mr. Blalock glanced up and saw me on the bench. He seemed startled to see me, so I just pretended I didn’t notice anything.”

  “Did he ask you about it?”

  “When I got back to the hotel, he made conversation, fishing around to see if I’d seen anything. I just pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about. He hasn’t mentioned it since. That’s all I know. Now, I have to get back to work.” Nell was halfway out of her seat when Rory touched the woman’s arm. “Wait. Why are you telling me all this?”

  For the first time, Nell looked directly into Rory’s eyes. “You mean why should you believe me? I have nothing to gain by telling on my boss and everything to lose. There’s something...not right about it. It’s been bothering me ever since I saw Mr. Blalock and that man together, that’s all.”

  “If it bothers you that much, why don’t you talk to the owner?”

  “I don’t even know who that is. Hides behind some company called Blue Wave Investments. He’s never set foot in the hotel. I hear he lives back east somewhere. He’s given Mr. Blalock carte blanche when it comes to everything to do with the Akaw. He put up the money, but doesn’t seem to want to know anything about what’s going on.”

  “I thought he lived up north.”

  “All I know is he’s not around.” After Rory assured the woman she wouldn’t tell anyone Nell had squealed on her boss, the hotel employee headed back inside.

  Rory leaned back on the bench and thought about what she’d learned. The exchange of money confirmed Ian had hired the PI, although she still didn’t know why. Plus, she found it odd that he’d said the man was a disgruntled employee. Instead of coming up with an elaborate lie, he could have insisted it was none of anyone’s business. No one could force him to talk. And where did Jasmine fit in? From the video, they could tell the woman had overheard the conversation between Ian and Oscar Carlton. Plus, Jasmine had her own conversation with the PI. As the Akaw’s manager, Ian did have access to all of the rooms, and could have easily taken some of Jasmine’s medicine.

  Deep in thought, Rory headed toward the front door. She’d barely stepped inside when someone grabbed her arm.

  “We need to go,” Liz said, excitement dancing in her eyes.

  Rory stared down at her friend. “Why? What’s going on?”

  Liz dropped her voice down to a whisper so low Rory could hardly hear her. All she could make out were the words “car” and “ton.” She bent down and asked her friend to repeat what she’d said.

  “We have a meeting with a CI about that PI, Oscar Carlton.”

  Rory raised an eyebrow. “CI?”

  “You know, Confidential Informant. Like the police have on TV.”

  “You don’t work for the police, and this isn’t a TV show.”

  Liz waved her hand as if dismissing Rory’s comments as unimportant. “My contact, then, wants to meet us in the underground parking area in...” She consulted her watch. “...ten minutes. But first, we need to get something from your mother’s booth.”

  Rory stared at Liz in complete bewilderment. She wondered what her friend planned on getting at the Scrap ’n Paint booth that would be needed for a clandestine meeting.

  On the trade show floor, Liz weaved her way through the crowd of shoppers, Rory close on her heels. When they reached their destination, Liz immediately went to a display of unfinished wood and snatched up two fourteen-inch by twenty-inch trays. “Good, there are still some left.”

  “What do we need wood trays for?”

  “Protection.” Liz brought the trays to Lily, the college student manning the cash register, and whipped out her credit card.

  “Protection?” The trays were heavy. Rory could see using one as an impromptu weapon, bopping someone on the head with it or using it as a shield, but she didn’t plan on getting into a situation where that was required. “Why do we need protection? Just who are we going to meet?”

  “No one dangerous, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” Liz handed Rory one of the trays. “You can pay me for it late
r. Let’s go.”

  As they made their way to the parking garage elevator, Rory wondered who they were meeting and what that person could tell them about the private investigator.

  She tried to ask questions as they rode down in the parking garage elevator, but Liz jerked her head slightly toward a couple standing beside them, indicating she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the car’s other occupants. Not until everyone else had gotten off would she give Rory more details.

  “We’re meeting Carlton’s assistant. She has information for us.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “She’s a friend of a friend. Agreed to meet as long as we do it somewhere her boss won’t see her.”

  “Why is she even talking to us?”

  “There’s no love lost between her and her boss. She’s studying to be a PI. Really close to getting her license and setting up her own business. I promised to send clients her way when she does.”

  Liz was well thought of in the city and encountered a boatload of people through her work in real estate. Many of her clients contacted her long after their real estate transactions had been completed, asking for referrals on contractors, gardeners, and a host of other services. Rory could easily imagine some of them wanting recommendations for local investigators.

  They continued their ride in silence until they stepped out of the elevator at the bottom level. An eerie quiet enveloped them. Rory glanced around, but didn’t see anyone. She imagined a masked man crouched next to an SUV, hidden by its bulk, ready to spring at her as she passed by. She stepped closer to Liz and gripped the wooden tray tightly.

  “She’s meeting us by her car. Look for a white van,” Liz said.

  “Whoa!” Rory grabbed her friend’s arm. “There’s no way I’m getting into someone’s van. That’s just stupid.”

  She’d read enough newspaper accounts of people being kidnapped and pushed into nondescript white vans to know how dangerous that could be.

  “It’ll be okay. We won’t get in it, I promise. They use the van for surveillance. She’s not on a case right now. She took it in for servicing.” Liz pointed to the far end of the lot where a white van with no distinguishing markings and no front plate was backed into a space next to a post, sandwiched between a black SUV and a silver sedan. “I think that’s it.”

  She’d no sooner spoken when the van’s lights flashed once, twice, three times.

  “That’s the signal. Let’s go.”

  Rory held her tray in front of her as they made their way toward the van. They were two car lengths away when a figure slipped out of the driver’s side, stepped behind the post, and silently waited for them to approach.

  Rory felt like a spy as they walked toward the lone figure who turned out to be a middle-aged woman with bright blue hair styled in a bubble cut and matching eyeshadow. She reminded Rory of a character in an old British sitcom she’d once seen on PBS. Rory half-expected the woman to have a British accent, but what came out of her mouth was more Boston than Bristol.

  “Which one of you is Liz?” the woman said.

  Liz stepped forward. “Candy?”

  A car drove past and Candy stepped further into the shadows between her van and the sedan, motioning for them to follow. Rory raised her tray, prepared to use it to protect herself and Liz if the situation warranted.

  Candy nodded her head toward Rory. “Who’s that? You didn’t say you were bringing anyone with you.”

  “This is Rory. She’s okay, a friend.”

  Candy gave Rory the onceover as if trying to decide if she could be trusted. Rory must have passed muster because the woman continued. “Okay, I don’t have much time. I’ve got to get back to the office before Oscar misses me. What do you want to know?”

  Liz nudged Rory. “Show her the video.”

  Rory cued the clip of Oscar and Ian up on her cell and played it for the woman, stopping at a two shot of the two men. “Do you know anything about this? That’s Ian Blalock, the manager of this hotel, with your boss.”

  The blue-haired woman mulled over the question for a moment before answering. “Name’s not familiar. When was this taken?”

  When Rory gave the woman the day and time, she stared at the nearby post for a moment. “Must have something to do with this case Oscar has been working on. All hush-hush. Won’t let me in on it. Keeps the file in his personal filing cabinet.”

  “Is that typical?” Rory asked.

  The woman shook her head. “No, I usually see all the cases. For some reason, he decided to keep this one to himself. But this man,” she jabbed a stubby finger at Ian’s picture, frozen on the phone’s screen, “is involved somehow.”

  “If you haven’t seen the file how do you know that?” Rory asked.

  “I might have followed Oscar one day. Just for practice. Don’t know if Liz told you, but I’m getting my PI license soon.” The woman held her head up high and pushed back her shoulders, causing her considerable chest to jut out. “Oscar promised to help me, but he hasn’t lifted a finger. Anyway, he met that man outside the hotel. I didn’t hear everything they said, but I heard something about Seattle. It sounded like they were talking about a case, and Oscar doesn’t have any other cases right now.”

  “What kind of case is it?” Rory asked.

  “A cold one. Criminal, I think, but I’m not sure.”

  “The day after this was taken, Ian gave Oscar an envelope filled with cash. Do you know why?”

  “He gave Oscar money? That son-of-a...” The woman pounded her fist on the side of the van.

  Rory clutched her tray tighter. “What’s the matter?”

  “He owes me two months back pay, two months. Said he didn’t have the money. Now I hear he’s had it for days!”

  “Could the money have something to do with the protesters?” Liz asked.

  “Protesters?” Candy looked off into the distance as if considering the question. “Nah, I don’t think he’d have anything to do with them. This Ian could have hired him, I suppose, and Oscar never told me about it. He’s been very secretive lately. Is there more to the video?”

  Rory played the rest of the clip.

  “I’ve seen her,” the PI’s assistant pointed at the screen. “She came to the office Tuesday, no, Wednesday morning. Very nervous, but then, most of our clients are at first. Had all sorts of questions about Oscar.”

  Rory and Liz exchanged puzzled glances.

  “Did she meet with him?” Rory said.

  “Scooted out as soon as the boss arrived. Happens more often than not. Lots of people want to hire a PI, but then reality sets in and they lose their nerve.” Candy looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. I’m trusting you not to tell my boss I talked to you, okay?”

  “You can count on us. Thanks for the information.” Liz handed the woman one of her business cards. “If you ever need anything from me, give me a call. And let me know when you set up your own shop. I’ll send business your way.”

  As Rory and Liz headed back toward the elevator, Candy hopped into the van and drove off.

  “Odd about Jasmine, isn’t it?” Liz said as she punched the call button. “Do you think she wanted to hire Oscar because she suspected Peter of cheating?”

  “Could be. She talked to him on the video. Maybe he told her to stop by and she lost her nerve.”

  “Or maybe there’s something else going on. Jasmine could have found out something one of them wanted to keep secret.”

  “I think we need to figure out some way to find out what the cold case is, what Ian hired Oscar to look into, and why the PI is so secretive about it,” Rory said. “Somehow I doubt either one of them is going to tell us.”

  Chapter 20

  Five minutes later, the two young women were passing through the Akaw’s lobby on their way outside when Rory spotted the hotel manager in the bar, sitting on a stool by himself. His forearms rested against the counter as he stared down at a full glass of whiskey.

  Rory indicated Liz should
wait for her and walked inside the Wave to talk to Ian. “Everything okay?”

  He turned toward her and gestured toward the empty stool next to his. “Join me.”

  “Some other time. I’m on my way to lunch. Just thought I’d stop and see if there have been any other problems you need me to look at. I’ve been monitoring the website off and on since the denial-of-service attack. Everything seems fine now.”

  “Good. I hope nothing like that happens again. These protesters are going to be the death of this hotel.” He twirled the glass between his hands.

  Rory bent down and lowered her voice. “How do you think Nixie’s doing? I was a little worried about her the other day. You know, her drinking.”

  “I know what you mean. She’s been through a lot with her husband dying so suddenly. She’s trying to keep it together, but it’s not always easy.”

  “You sound like you know that from personal experience.”

  Ian gripped his glass tighter. “I lost my wife awhile back. Cancer. You’re never prepared for a loved one’s death, even when you think you are. When something like that happens, you really learn how you deal with stress. I drank. First it was one drink when I got home from work, then two. Pretty soon I couldn’t get up in the morning without a glass of whiskey. It took me a long time before I was able to get out from under alcohol’s influence. It’s still a constant struggle.”

  Rory nodded toward the drink on the bar. “Should you have that in front of you, then?”

  Ian shoved the glass away. “Don’t worry, I haven’t had a drop. I like to test myself every once in a while.”

  “What made you stop?”

  “My son. He was sixteen at the time, same age as Gordon, Nixie’s son. I didn’t want him to lose a father as well as a mother. I got off the booze, and we moved down here from Seattle. Gave me a second chance. Everyone deserves one, don’t you think?” Ian pulled a photo of a young man out of his wallet. “He’s in college now. Reminds me of his mother.”